


The Pirate and the Prince

by blue_pointer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Captain Stark, Jealousy, M/M, Merpeople, Mutiny, Non-Human Genitalia, Past Stony, Sharks, Smut, Walking the plank, Well that escalated quickly, bad guy steve, dad tony, extreme measures, pirate children, swashbuckling, sword fights, violence but not too graphic, when your first mate is your mate, winteriron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12433332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: When the crew of the Iron Man take a royal hostage, all hell breaks loose. Tony looses his ship, and sets off on the strangest adventure of his buccaneer career.





	1. Mutiny on the Iron Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenWuppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenWuppy/gifts).



> My second fic for the October winteriron discord key exchange. Queenwuppy gave me a very angsty song for a prompt and I...went a different way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the crew of the Iron Man come across a rich prize, avarice ruins pirate friendships. Prince James' face may not have launched a thousand ships, but it's capable of sinking at least one.

The crew of the pirate ship knew they were in lady Fortune’s good graces when they found one of the royal ships unescorted out here in treacherous waters. What they hadn’t expected to find on board was the crown prince himself. 

The pirates didn’t kill him. Not because he was worth more alive--ransoms never worked well for pirates. They involved risky rendezvous that rarely ended well--but because of the way he carried himself. While the rest of his crew pissed themselves and died screaming by rusty cutlass, ice pick, or Crossbones’ sharpened set of false teeth, the prince stood calm, proudly staring them down.

Tony loved him from the moment he first set eyes on him. So tall. So regal. And a face any prostitute in Port Royal would pay for the privilege to sit on.

Of course, he couldn’t let on. Not because his crew were the only pirates who didn’t fuck anything with a hole in it--they did, gladly. But because Captain Stark’s first mate was his first  **mate** . And he liked to think he should be the only one in Tony’s bed. Strangely, that rule didn’t seem to work the other way around.

“Steven, get your hands off of our guest.” His lover was pawing at the prince, touching his face, checking his teeth for gold.

“Why, Captain?” Rogers moved behind the prince and leaned against him, sliding an arm over his shoulder. His wicked smirk beckoned Tony to come be the other slice of bread in that royal sandwich. “He’s ours now. We can do what we want with him.”

For his part, the prince glared at Tony, humiliated, but made no move to get away. Though the flare of his nostrils said he would have liked to slam his shackles into the first mate’s nose.

“Come.” Tony took one of the prisoner’s hands, and began to lead him out onto the deck. “The crew has quite a bit of work to do to strip down your lovely vessel. Let’s get you someplace more comfortable.”

“Captain--”

“Get to work, Mr. Rogers. I expect a full inventory of our windfall by 7 bells.”

“Yes, Sir.” But he did not sound happy.

As the captain led the way across the boards, his bloody fingers stroked up the prince’s slender digits to his palm. He couldn’t help it. Now that Tony had touched him, he wanted more. As before, the prisoner did not flinch or pull away. But it didn’t feel like consent, either. Most pirates didn’t bother with trivialities like consent, but Tony liked to when he could.

Prince James followed quietly all the way to the Iron Man, and up the stairs to the captain’s quarters. Without being asked, he took a seat at the captain’s table, glancing around at the decor, for which Tony himself was responsible. “You seem to be...quite civilized.”

But he wasn’t. At least, Tony didn’t feel that way when he looked at those ice-blue eyes. When he looked at that beautiful face, all he wanted to do was fuck it.

Now it seemed he’d waited too long to respond. The prince’s brow crinkled in concern. “Do you take that as an insult, Captain?”

“No. Of course not.” Tony slid into the chair opposite his captive, feeling like an awkward schoolboy.

“May I ask what you intend to do with me?” His tone was part haughty, part anxious. And Tony just wanted to reassure him.

“I don’t know.” Tony leaned his chin on his fist. The crew would want to either pass him around or ransom him. Possibly both. But it was still the captain’s decision to make. ...Probably.

Tony offered a devilish smirk. “Ever thought of becoming a pirate?”

“I can’t say that I have.” He cocked his head, and Tony thought he could see the gears turning in the prince’s head. Was this a game? Was the pirate toying with him? Or was Tony truly giving him that option? Finally James asked, “What does it entail?”

Tony rested his other elbow on the table, hands framing his face when he smiled at the prince. It was a charming smile. A little dangerous, but primarily charming. “Murder, mostly,” the captain said.

“I see.”

 

*

 

It took almost a full day to strip the royal ship. In those first hours while Steven was busy overseeing the work, Tony invited Prince James into his bed--but only to sleep. He’d drugged his wine so that the prince could rest--being taken prisoner could be so stressful. 

What Tony hadn’t intended to do was perch on the bed next to him, running fingers along his jaw. James was too handsome. Weren’t royals supposed to be inbred? What sort of inbreeding produced faces like this?

It was only an hour before he lost his resolve, bent down and gently pressed his lips to that soft, unchapped, landlubber’s mouth. He ran his hands down the fine linen of the prince’s shirt, toyed with the buttons of his pants, slid his hand around to grab a fistful of royal arse.

To his surprise, those soft lips began to kiss back, bound hands looping around his neck, pulling gently at Tony’s hair. The pirate captain could hardly control himself. He ground against James like a randy teenager, tongue plundering his mouth, hands cupping his face, and suddenly it was done, a warm stain spreading between them. He looked up, startled, into hazy blue eyes. “Sorry.”

The prince combed fingers through his hair. “How does a man like you come to be the captain of the most feared pirate crew in the Atlantic?”

Was he doubting Tony’s ferocity? Just because he’d popped like a cork with a little kissing? Tony pressed the tip of his jeweled knife to the prince’s jugular. “Do you doubt my ruthlessness? That would be unwise, your highness.”

James responded by kissing the tip of Tony’s nose. “You have beautiful eyes.”

Tony pulled back, stood up. What in the--?! He was coming undone. “You, you--you think because you’re handsome you can just have your way. I could give you to the crew. You can learn the hard way.”

The prince sat up, propping himself against damask pillows. “I don’t think you’re going to do that.”

Tony bit his lip. They both knew he wasn’t going to do that.

“Come here,” the prince said, beckoning. And Tony came. How could he resist? Sitting at the edge of the bed, James leaned forward and began to lick the wet spot on Tony’s trousers.

“Oh god.” He rested his hand on the back of James’ head, starting to breathe faster, wondering how long it would be before he was hard again.

Bound hands unfastened his pants, let them slide down his thighs, and then that warm tongue was on his bare skin, licking the come away. “You...you are…” Tony was fully hard again in moments, his eager cock twitching against the prince’s face.

“Tell me,” James said, running his tongue up the length of Tony’s cock, making him pant and whimper.

“You are...so…” Tony’s fingers combed greedily through the thick silk waves of James’ hair. “Beautif--”

“It took longer than expected--” The first mate froze in the doorway, taking in the scene.

Tony just froze, but the prince continued, unashamed, gently suckling the tip of his cock. There was a loud bang as Steven kicked the door shut, followed by another as he nailed the inventory list to the table with a very large knife.

“Since when do you fuck anyone without me?” Rogers was incensed.

But Tony was annoyed.  **He** was the captain. He could get fellated if he wanted to. Right? “I don’t remember needing your permission to do anything, Mr. Rogers.” He glared defiance, which was difficult to do with a hot mouth descending your rod.

“He’s mine!” The first mate stormed across the room, grabbed the captive around the shoulders and slammed him back against the headboard. Tony worried how hard a blow to the head the prince had taken. He looked dazed. “I claimed him first!”

Tony wanted to be angry, but it felt good to be wanted. To have someone so possessive of him. “Why did you start without me?” Steven growled, spinning Tony around and tossing him forward over the bed.

“Wait.” Tony grabbed hold of his pants, pulling them up before his second in command could start whatever punitive activity he had planned for the captain’s arse. “Were you talking about him? Or me?”

“Him, of course!” Steven gestured angrily. “You’re  _ already _ mine!”

Tony stood, buttoning back up. Pants had never been put on so quickly. “Need I remind you, Mr. Rogers, that  **I** am the captain of this ship. I determine what becomes of our prisoner, and I give the orders here. Not you.”

The first mate folded muscular arms across his chest, his eyes sparkling dangerously. “Then maybe it’s time you knew the truth.”

He strode back out on deck. “Everyone! While we’ve been working hard stripping the ship, Captain’s been helping himself to the prisoner!”

There were a few scowls and grumbles. The boatswain stepped forward. “Captain has a right to take first, uh...go.”

“Maybe,” Rogers continued. “But he just denied me my turn. And I’ll bet he’s going to do the same for all of yous.”

“Izzat true?” Hawkeye fingered an arrow he’d been sharpening, narrowing his eyes at the captain.

Tony stepped out from behind Steven’s bulk. “Now listen up, men--and women.” He glanced at the Black Widow, lurking like a spider in the rigging. “Who is the captain of this bloody ship? Me, or Rogers here?”

The crew was uncomfortably quiet. Tony didn’t like the way Steven’s smirk spread across his face. Then he blinked as a blade was suddenly pressed to Steven’s throat.

“Fascinating as all of this is….” How had the prisoner gotten out of his shackles? “I’ll be leaving now.” He was stronger than he looked, dragging Steven down the stairs and walking toward his own ship. “Cut it loose,” he told Rhodey, who glanced askance at Tony. The captain nodded. This had gotten out of hand quickly, and in spite of Steven’s mutinous tone, he wasn’t ready to have his lover’s throat cut...by his new lover.

“Belay that, boatswain,” Steven said, stopping Rhodey as he began to untie the ropes.

“Cut it loose,” the prince repeated, pressing the blade to the first mate’s throat so that blood began to drip down his neck.

Then all hell broke loose.

Steven slammed his head back into the prince’s face, breaking his nose. As he reeled back, the first mate grabbed a sword and came for him like a freight train. Tony was in a panic. To skewer a prisoner so valuable...so lovely. This couldn’t be happening. Why was Rogers being so foolish?

But the prince blocked the jab with one of the crew, drawing the dead man’s cutlass as the corpse fell to the deck. A most impressive sword fight ensued. Steven pursued the prince with sheer force, hacking away at him, attempting to disarm James by cutting off one of his arms. But the prince had skill, blocking each blow with enough strength of his own to keep hold of his weapon. The crew was entranced. They’d never seen such a thing.

Tony clutched his chest. This was a no-win situation for him. Either he lost his lover of the last two years--not to mention his first mate--or he lost his beautiful new prize. “Stop!” he shouted, striding forward. “Drop your swords. I said STOP!” He used the special disarming hooks he’d designed to grab each of their swords, stepping between them. “This stops right now. That’s an order, Mr. Rogers.”

Steven moved away, glaring death at the prince. He threw down his sword in a rage. “Ballots!” he bellowed. “Ballots! I demand a vote for captain! Who among you would rather follow me? Ballots, Mr. Vanko! Let us put it to a vote.”

Rhodey looked at Tony. Tony looked at Rhodey. This didn’t bode well. And the only one powerful enough to say no to a vote was the quartermaster, Vanko, who happened to loathe Tony from the depths of his soul. Some people. You kill their father and they never get over it.

No one seemed to have noticed the prince climbing back aboard his own ship in the fuss. Well, almost no one. Black Widow appeared, climbing back over the Iron Man’s rail, towing James by a rope around his neck. “Can I keep him, Captain? He’s so pretty.”

“You’d rather keep him than have the ransom?” Tony asked her, knowing the answer. She was no fool, she just liked to play games.

Mr. Rogers nodded toward the captain’s quarters. “You can have seconds, Romanov. But then he gets shared among us.”

She nodded, dragging the prince toward Tony’s bed. HIS bed. But there was nothing he could do before the vote was tallied. Captain Stark sat back and began working on a solution. A mechanical one. Fortunately he had projects and tools stowed all over the Iron Man.

+

In the end, it wasn’t even close. Tony knew Rhodey had voted to keep him as captain, and he had a guess as to whom the other two votes had been. But it wasn’t nearly enough.

To celebrate, the crew lined up outside his cabin--now Steve’s, apparently--in expectation of having their turn with the royal prisoner. That made Tony’s stomach churn, even more than being forced to walk the plank. They threw garbage at him. Dead rats. Pissbuckets. But Tony had prepared for this day. Ever since the balance of power had begunto shift between captain and first mate. “You’ll all burn in hell!” he told them, in what Tony hoped was a sufficiently dramatic manner.

“Give our regards to Davy Jones!” Crossbones said.

“One last thing, Tony,” Steven said, giving him the smallest spark of hope. He beckoned Tony back.  

The former captain turned, looking desperately into Steve’s eyes.  _ Don’t make me do this, gorgeous.  _ Maybe he hadn’t been wrong. Maybe there really had been something between them.

“Bring out the prisoner!” Steven barked. Tony looked up in time to see Black Widow lead the prisoner back out of his--formerly his--cabin. James was covered in blood, tiny cuts scattered across every inch of his skin, like a bloody starmap. What the hell had she done to him?

“Since he’s the reason you finally forced my hand,” Captain Rogers told him, “I thought you might like to say goodbye.”

The crew whistled and hollered as the prince was led down, nude and bloody, hands bound behind his back. In spite of everything, he carried himself with grace and poise, coming to stand in front of Tony. “I never meant for this to happen,” Tony murmured, wishing he could touch that stubbled cheek. His poor broken nose.

“Neither did I,” the prince said, his eyes warm and apologetic. And why was he apologizing to Tony? This was his fault. If he’d only insisted on a ransom, talked things over with Steven...

The widow shouted as James jerked away from her, ran full-tilt down the plank, and disappeared over the edge. Everyone ran port to see, but there was nothing left of their prize but bubbles and old Bessie’s dorsal fin, swimming slowly toward her dinner.

“No!” Tony ran after him, plummeting the 20 feet to the water before he could think of a better plan, and regretting his choice even before he hit that 50 degree water.

Rhodey’s jaw dropped. Everyone on the deck was stunned. “I wasn’t really gonna make him do it,” Steven said, turning to the crew. “You all knew that, right? I wasn’t really gonna make him do it.” They all looked on, some sad, some disappointed, some bored.

“How much would you guess the prince was worth?” Mr. Rhodes asked, casually. It was easy to sew dissent. If Rogers thought he had the crew in the palm of his hand now, he was wrong.

 

*

 

Tony had the breathing tube in his mouth as soon as he hit the water. Then, quickly picking the lock on his shackles, he swam toward the hull. He needed to get away from the feeding frenzy the poor prince had no doubt begun, tried to keep it all in, not breathe, not feel, just focus on surviving. He secured the rope around himself and activated the pulley that would tow him swiftly to stern, below the surface and out of sight. Then it was time to put on his climbing gloves and tow himself around to the starboard side of the royal vessel, where no one might spot him. It seemed to take hours, and Tony’s arms ached from hauling himself through the water at top speed. But there was no such thing as escaping a hungry shark too swiftly. 

Finally he was in the clear, and came up for air, taking the breathing tube from his mouth. He allowed himself a quiet sob of grief for all he’d just lost before scaling the ship and sliding through the nearest gun port. Then he collapsed in a salty heap and allowed himself a good cry. He wiped his face and his hands came away pink with blood. His royal jewel’s blood. How was it possible to love something you’d never had?

“You okay, Tony?” No one ever expected the ship’s cook to mutiny. But Banner was no ordinary cook.

“Do I look okay?!” Bruce had always humored him, and Tony appreciated it. Now more than ever, as the cook came over to clasp his arm in a show of solidarity.  

“Suck it up, Tony.” That was Rhodey. He never humored him. Ever.

“Are the charges set?” Tony asked, still clinging to Bruce, because he needed to hug someone after the day he’d had, dammit!

“The boy’s finishing up now.”

“You left him there? Alone?” Now Tony was starting to panic in earnest. He’d lost too much today. He couldn’t lose anyone else. Especially not his little monkey.

Bruce shoved a valerian tablet into his mouth, and Tony swallowed, grateful. “I hate you a little bit,” he told Rhodes, lying back on the floor, spread-eagle.

“Duly noted, Captain.” Banner and Rhodes disappeared, presumably to push the two ships far enough apart that the explosion wouldn’t set fire to this one.

Tony was just starting to feel the edge of his panic return when small footsteps pounded across the floorboards toward him. “Papa!”

“My Vision!” Tony caught the boy up in his arms and crushed the little body against him, breathing in the unwashed, lice-ridden scent of his son’s hair.

“Can we go watch the explosions, papa? I love the explosions!” He clung to Tony’s neck and leaned back, as though tugging him abovedeck.

“Of course we can, Monkey.” Tony pet the boy’s soft baby bird hair. He couldn’t loosen his grip on his son by a millimeter. Tony needed to hold onto something good to remind him that today hadn’t quite been the end of the world. But it felt like it had.

As the royal sloop gently drifted away from his beloved Iron Man, the first explosion detonated, and fire rolled across the deck like a hurricane. Tony looked away, not wanting to identify which of his crew were ablaze, screaming, leaping into the water. More than one tried to jump for the safety of their ship, only to be met by the crack of Rhodey’s rifle, protecting their little sanctuary. The Iron Man quickly became a flaming hellscape. But they were safe here. Fortunately Mr. Rhodes had the stomach to do what had to be done.

“Papa, why is the red lady here?” Tony started as the black widow came spidering down the rigging on the aft side, swinging easily onto the deck. Tony had his pistol trained on her before her feet hit the boards.

“I don’t remember inviting you to this party, Romanov.”

“Go to hell, Tony,” she told him casually, walking toward the cabin. “You’re not the only one who’s had a bad day.”

Bruce and Rhodey watched her go. “You think she’s gonna be a problem?”

“The question is, will she be more of a liability than an asset?” Tony knew how to look at these things. The Widow looked downright moody. Maybe she had loved the prince, too. Though if she had, she’d had a strange way of showing it.

“Fire, papa!” Vision pointed as the sails caught the wind and the flames licked up twice as high as the mainmast. Tony was a little dismayed at how excited this made his son. Then again, Vision was a pirate-in-training. 


	2. Someday My Prince Will Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony goes to sleep on the royal vessel his crew stole and wakes up to a pretty face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People who know me will not be surprised by this.   
> Please be warned there is not only smut here, but...unconventional smut?

It wasn’t long before Tony had to retire to the prince’s cabin, unwilling to listen to his former friends die. Something in him wanted Steven to survive. Not here. But somewhere. Somehow. If Tony didn’t see him perish, he would still be alive in Tony’s mind.

Gods, it hurt. Had Steven ever loved him? And why did Tony feel as though the prince had? He’d hardly known him. Was Tony the biggest fool to sail the seven seas? He laid his cheek on the jeweled pillow, turning his face against it, trying to catch even one last scent of his poor dead love.

*

It was dark, and they’d caught the trade wind for a swift escape from the lost ship and crew. But as fast as the royal sloop moved, there were things that could move more swiftly.

A dark shape separated itself from the water, scaling the side of the ship without peg or ladder, a wet sucking sound on the hull the only sign of its passage. The Widow had sung the crew to sleep: the boy curled in the crow’s nest, first mate against the helm, the cook in his galley. Their eyes meet as the pursuer dragged himself on deck, touching down with a wet smack.

“He won’t want you like that,” she said, copper locks caught in the wind, roiling around her head like bloody foam.

His reply was a gnashing of sharp teeth, the subtle blink of nictitating membranes across black hole eyes. Changing back was exhausting.

“Why didn’t you eat?” she accused. “There were plenty of men in the water.”

He grunted, dragging himself across the deck, away from her.  _ Sisters. _

 

+

 

Tony was dreaming his precious jewel was still alive, the lovely prince who was not afraid of Steven, nor what Tony wanted. He could remember the touch of those lips against his cock, and it made that bubble of grief rise in his chest, almost as much as imagining Steven on the Iron Man, pale blond hair catching fire as the ship erupted in flame around him. He whimpered in his sleep. “Steven.” 

Tony was dreaming of gentle fingers in his hair. Was his mother still alive? Oh, this was a painful dream. An eerie song wove its way into his sleep. He’d never heard music like it before, which was how he knew he was still dreaming. It was soothing. It eased Tony’s heart a little. As did the soft lips against his cheek.

Tony opened one eye. To a pitch-black eye, a perfectly round dark mirror leading straight to hell. But it shrank as he watched. And shrank. And as it did, a blue halo grew around it. And then there was an eyelid and last of all, dark lashes.

“Am I in hell?” Tony asked his dead love, voice hoarse from crying.

“Not yet,” the prince told him gently.

There was the sound of the door opening. “Here!” Somehow, a tuna flew across the room, smacking James in the face, knocking him down. “Eat, you greedy shit-hole!” The door slammed hard, but not before Tony caught a glimpse of red hair.

“Romanov?” A wet crunching drew his eye back to his love...biting into the fish as Tony might bite into an apple-- only his teeth were triangular and jagged, like bone knives, like… “Shark’s teeth.”

“I’m sorry,” James put the fish aside. “Today took much of my strength.” As he spoke, his teeth shrank back down to human size.

Tony couldn’t believe his eyes. He leaned over the edge of the bed. “You. You have two--” Somehow this was more miraculous than his return from the dead, more even than James not being human.

The prince took Tony’s face in his hands, turned it up to look at his human half. “Please. Don’t look at that part. I worked so hard to appear pleasing again.”

“Who says that’s not pleasing?” Tony reached down to trace the line of one of the long organs with his finger, watched the prince’s eyes close at the touch. He was getting so many ideas. So many. “Can you keep these? When you change back?”

James nodded, eyes still closed.

“Come here,” Tony whispered. “Come here, lover.”

The prince dragged himself onto the bed, his heavy tail making the ropes groan and the frame crack.

“You’re beautiful,” Tony murmured, sliding close and wrapping his arms around the vaguely slimy human torso.

“You are a strange mouth breather.” But James’ eyes were resting lovingly on Tony, like they had aboard the Iron Man not so long ago.

“You make me feel--” But Tony’s words were cut off by the prince’s mouth on his. Tony spared a half second’s worry for those sharp teeth, and then a sea salt tongue was sliding against his, and he didn’t care. He reached down James’ smooth abdomen to the sharp sandpapery skin below. “Do you like this?” he whispered, gently gripping one of the two claspers.

“Yes.” The prince arched his back, eyes closed, and Tony stroked it, careful to move only with the grain and spare his poor hands. Suddenly legs were snaking around his, ice cold feet sliding down the backs of Tony’s calves.

“Your poor tail,” Tony soothed. “Does it hurt?”

“Yesss,” James writhed, nails digging into Tony’s shoulders. “But this feels better.”

Tony was tempted...so tempted to put his lips on it. But what would that do to his mouth? “Who are you?” he asked, his hand moving to the other rough-skinned organ. “Not James of Castile.”

The prince’s head slammed back into the pillow, and Tony was almost worried by the force of it. “I’m just who you think I am.” His voice had become a rough growl. “I am a prince. From a land you do not know.” He pulled Tony to him for a soft kiss. “I saw you and I wanted you.” His clever fingers quickly unfastened Tony’s pants while he was distracted by kisses and a lover with two cocks.

“You did?” Tony felt high, like he’d taken another one of Bruce’s capsules.

“My sister is an explorer. One day I came to see her, and you were there. I’m afraid she’s quite angry with me for ruining her game.”

Tony found himself rolled over and pushed back into the pillows. “Oh, but I wanted you.” The prince lay down on top of Tony, kissing him again. “Be mine.”

Tony’s pants were gone, and this was the part where he should really worry, right? But he wasn’t worried, he was spreading his legs, drawing his knees up.

“Be mine,” the prince growled again as a wet pointed tip nudged Tony’s ass, making him moan. “Be mine.” It slipped in, slick and tapered, giving him time to adjust--a little time, and oh, the rough texture, the tiny ridges making Tony cry out, wrap his legs around cold shoulders.

“Be mine.” Tony got one last kiss before it all went to shit, the cool organ swelling inside him, bigger and thicker, thicker and more rough, until he was howling with pleasure and pain, afraid to move, afraid he might burst. He gripped the other one, the one outside of him, the one that had spared him, squeezing and writhing against the prince’s cool skin, trying to keep his hips still.

“I’m sorry.” The prince kissed his brow. “You thought you wanted this.”

“I do want it,” Tony gasped. “Give it to me!”

Wet lips pressed against his throat as he felt the hot sperm jetting out to fill him. Tony moaned and whined, but there was no relief. The cock swelled even thicker. He was trapped, and sperm continued to fill him. It was painful. Orgasmic. A slick hand wrapped around him, helping Tony come, too.

 

*

 

“Papa, wake up! Papa!” Tiny arms wrapped around his neck, and Tony startled awake, tangled in sheets. 

_ Ah, it was all just a dream _ . “What is it, junior? Are we there already?”

“Come see, papa, come see!” Little feet race back out of the room, and Tony tried to stir, gasping with pain at even the slightest movement.

He threw back the blanket to find sheets smeared with blood. His hind quarters felt like they’d been violated with an industrial rasp. “Oh no.” Tony sagged back into the mattress, refusing to believe it. The amount of semen that had already leaked out of him had left an irreversible stain on both sheets and mattress. “It should be burned,” he groaned.

After too long, he managed to make his way abovedeck using a seashell-handled longsword he’d found as a crutch. Tony clutched his coat around him. The sun was shining, a gentle breeze blowing from the east. Rhodes and Banner were having tea by the helm. The prince was leaning on the rail, smiling and chatting with Romanov. “Hey!” Tony shouted. “You!” He hobbled over, feeling both angry and aroused by the memory of last night.

The prince turned to him, reaching to touch Tony’s cheek. “Yes, my love?” Some of Tony’s anger dissipated at his touch.

“I hear you asked for it.” Romanov smirked and smirked. No wonder none of her lovers had ever survived, Tony thought.

“Nat, stop. Leave my Tony alone.” He found himself jerked against the prince’s broad chest, and leaned against it, exhausted and grateful.

“He’d better get used to it.” She grinned, sauntering off. “None of the suitors are going to accept your choice if he can’t even take you.”

The prince ignored her. “How are you, my love?” He cupped Tony’s cheek, looking down at him with concern. “It was too rough, wasn’t it? I should have said no. I should have done a better job of protecting you.”

“Bullshit.” Tony’s speech was slurred, and the kiss he offered up was sloppy. But it was worth it. All worth it. “You and your two giant dicks aren’t going anywhere. Let’s get that straight right now.”

The prince chuckled, wrapping both arms around him.

A small hand reached up to grip Tony’s fingers. “Look, papa! Come look at all the fish people!” Vision pointed over the rail at the white beach Tony had been too distracted to see. A line of half-nude people stretched up the sand dune, and all around them, workers moved about their business, some with legs, some with fins, some with both. As he watched, an octopus man emerged from the tide and wove his way up the beach.

“What?” Tony looked up at his prince for an explanation.

“There will be a ceremony,” James told him. “To validate our courtship. I hope you don’t mind long, boring ceremonies.”

Tony smiled, wan. “Will you carry me?”

His smile was warm as the Caribbean. “I can carry you.”


End file.
